


Go Back And Tell'em

by rapunzarry (analugonc)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Childhood Friends, Class Differences, Hamptons, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-20 14:25:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14262981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/analugonc/pseuds/rapunzarry
Summary: As a kid, when Anne Styles offered him a place at the table and a scoop of ice cream, he accepted it with a huge grin, until Doniya told him one day, that rich people offered things to be polite, they don’t really mean for you to accept it. At first Zayn didn’t understand how could it be polite for her to offer and for him not to accept, and when he told Harry later, the other boy laughed and said that it made no sense at all, that there was plenty ice cream for everyone to have some, Zayn believed him.OrEver since before he could remember, the Styles were part of Zayn’s life. Or the Maliks were a part of the Styles’, depending on how you see it.Or elseThe Malik family works at the Styles' Hamptons manor, Zayn and Harry are lost and find themselves on each other.





	Go Back And Tell'em

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zarrytag](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarrytag/gifts).



> Title is from Lorde’s Hard Feelings/Loveless.
> 
> I listened to Melodrama nonstop while writing it.
> 
> zarrytag, I tried to reach close to your prompts but might've drifted and mixing them up a bit.  
> I really hope you like it.
> 
> Endless thanks to Helena who lovingly helped me through it.
> 
> It feels amazing to create a fic after so much time being a reader. I had a great great time.
> 
> Thanks to the exchange mod, you allow for magic to happen.

_I should really cut my hair._

That’s the thought that seeped through Zayn's mind as he unloaded the trunk of his pickup, the smell of fish assaulting his senses and making his eyes water, the strands of his sweat damped hair sticking to the sides of his face and the nape of his neck. It was still barely may, but the heat was beginning to make itself known at the Hamptons and in less than a month, people would come in from everywhere - wearing their designer clothes, drinking their overpriced drinks and making sure everyone noticed who it is, really, that owns the place.

That morning when Pablo from the docks asked Zayn if he could please help him take all of the fresh catch to Laguna’s he’d said yes before thinking it through and now he was damped in sweat, his tank top sticking to his body and also late to stop by the hardware store. _I should really start saying no to things too_.

The bell bounced when he opened the door of the diner with his feet, both hands balancing the huge box full of fist sized shrimps. He could barely see over the top of it, but he heard when Martha stepped out of the kitchen and started telling one of the waiters to “Help the boy for christ sake”. She and Pablo had been married for fifty years and for as many, they’d kept the best seafood restaurant and diner of the East Coast up and running all year round.

Passing the huge box on, Zayn straightened his back and mumbled something about being on a rush as he gave Martha a quick hug and made his way to leave, but not before she gave him some fries to go on the house and the reminder that he was always their favourite, which - he though - may or may not have to do with him always saying yes to carrying fucking fish in the back of his car.

It’s a funny thing, to live in a place made to be lived on for only part of the year. People who own properties at the Hamptons only ever really come when in vacation, when they pause their real lives and let go of responsibilities, when they allow themselves to let go. It kind of builds a wall between those people and the ones like Zayn and his family, or Martha and Pablo, people who stay there, whole year round to take care of someone else's things while they’re away. Invested in a town who’s mostly, but not completely their own.

When he was little, summers were Zayn's favourite. He loved how the town filled with people just as the air got warmer and warmer, the golden trail of sun stamping skin and the icecream charts that were suddenly there every time you walked around a corner. He often wondered why the rest of the year couldn’t also be this way. It took him some time to understand the whole collection of shades that coloured the way the world works, Zayn guessed he was always protected by his family, that was what a good family did, anyway. But he also rather find out things for himself, so it took him long enough to learn that money made people behave differently.

As a kid, when Anne Styles offered him a place at the table and a scoop of ice cream, he accepted it with a huge grin, until Doniya told him one day, that rich people offered things to be polite, they don’t really mean for you to accept it. At first Zayn didn’t understand how could it be polite for her to offer and for him not to accept, and when he told Harry later, the other boy laughed and said that it made _no sense at all, that there was plenty ice cream for everyone to have some_ , Zayn believed him.

Ever since before he could remember, the Styles were part of Zayn’s life. Or the Maliks were a part of the Styles’, depending on how you see it. His father Yaser Malik was maybe the only person in the world that Des Styles - majority partner at the most expensive law firm in Manhattan - trusted his belongings with. Yaser, husband and father of _two-soon-to-become-three_ and unemployed, brought his family to the US hoping for a better life and found it working as a driver to a wealthy family. And so, Zayn was only a baby when his family left Bradford to live at the side house just at the end of the property that held the Styles’ Hamptons manor. It became the house in which Zayn grew up, in which both his younger sisters were born, where their pictures hang in the walls and their cold milk glasses marked every other wood surface.

And also where he came back to, after spending five years living by himself in New York. To the house he already knew which steps creaked on the stairwell, to a city where he already knew everyone by their names, and they knew him. To the place he already knew would have a sunny or cloudy day by the way the night sky looked like. To the place he already knew he was useful, needed, safe.

Zayn Malik was a good boy.

From the day he was born and his mother and father looked at him, at his almond shaped, caramel colored eyes, they both knew he had goodness in his bones. He was a good boy as an infant, always willing to share his toys and his space, trying to survive in a house full of sisters. He was a good boy growing up, always greeting people good morning, afternoon and night, offering help as often as he could. He’d been a good boy through high school, when every other teenager was all about being a bad boy. He’d been good.

As Zayn finally parked at the hardware store, jumping down his truck to meet Louis, an unsettling, restless feeling creeping on his guts ever since he came back.

The other boy was already closing up when Zayn gripped his shoulders and smacked a kiss on his cheek. Sometimes it was weird for Zayn to see his best friend fitting so well within all that he knew before knowing him. After all, they met in New York, first year of college when they shared a room - and bonded over the joke they both had useless and certainly _doomed-to-be-poor_ majors - becoming inseparable.

So much so that when Zayn was packing the few things he took to the already small room he lived through his uni years after finishing his english lit major to move back home, Louis barged in with a bag over his shoulders and a monologue about how he it was all about the “adventure of life”, and decided to come too. He moved to a small bedroom on top of the towns coffee shop and got a job at the local hardware store and, to Zayn’s surprise, he didn’t seemed unhappy at all.

“Oh, Zed, how do you intend to begin to make up to the universe for me being your friend?” Louis sometimes made it hard to forget he went to drama school, but if something, that only made Zayn like him more. He smirked “I’ll let you ride my boat”

Louis rolled his eyes as he picked up a large bag from the floor “Are you once again trying and failing to get in my pants or are you implying you actually think that piece of crap of yours will float?”

“‘Course it will! My bestest friend works at the hardware store and spends all his employee discount on nice fixes for it” Zayn said, taking the bag and putting on his trunk “in fact, are you busy right now? We should go down there, there’s still a couple hours until it gets dark.”

Louis pretended to think “if you insist, mate, but you’re not making me pick up a single screw today” he announced already climbing at the passenger seat “and we’re stopping by the store to get alcohol”.

“That i can do, my friend” Zayn answered turning the key “also, if Eleanor is there you have five minutes of flirting and no more” Louis made an outraged face and was going to reply, but Zayn cut him off “it’s not like she’ll ever agree to ride _your_ boat anyway”.

“At least i’m working on getting my boat ridden! And can we stop already with the boat talk!”

Zayn knew he was lucky, he did. He had gone to one of the best universities in the country in one of the best cities in the world, met his best friend and enjoyed every second of it. He needed to experience new things and freedom and meet more, different people, and see the world outside on his own. But he also knew that that wasn’t his life. He knew he had to come back to where he belonged. So he did.

Very few of his highschool friends were able to go out for college, they mostly stayed at the Hamptons and now worked there. Zayn knew Eleanor from school and now she used to work as a cashier at the market. If you lived in the Hamptons and had no money, pretty soon your summer job would be your life long job. That’s how it worked.

As the great friend he was, Louis took off to find Eleanor as soon as they both got there, leaving Zayn to pick up the beers and meet him at the cashier.

“Hi El” Zayn greeted, the glass clinking as he put down the bottles.

“Hi Zayn” she cheerfully greeted back already cashing the cans as if it were automatic now “you won’t believe the news I was just about to tell Lou” Zayn always thought Eleanor was a sweet girl, but as most people in town, she too rushed to tell every bit of gossip that got her way, especially when in low season, while they barely had better things to occupy their minds. Zayn doesn’t remember the gossip being so annoying before he lived in New York, where people either didn’t know him or didn’t care.

Zayn handed her the money as she paused for effect before blurting “Harry Styles is back! He came here just this afternoon, and i know it’s big news ‘cause when i asked him, he said he didn’t see you yet” Eleanor was beaming, her eyes full of hope as she waited for Zayn to respond.

Zayn remembered that - for a while - he used to think about witty answers he would give if ever in a conversation about Harry Styles, but now his words somehow vanished and all he could say was “Uh” his face felling like it’d been frozen, he couldn’t move it.

After an awkward minute he managed to get his hands up and rub his face “Big news, yeah” he mumbled and cleared his throat “cool, awesome”. He shaked his head once as a goodbye and turned around to walk to the car. Eleanor looked from Zayn’s back to Louis who gave her a _don’t ask me_ look before turning to follow Zayn.

When Louis got to the car, Zayn was already at the driver’s seat. He rubbed his face while waiting for the other boy to climb up the passenger side, black hair pointing everywhere “Not in the mood to work anymore, I’ll give you a ride”.

Louis waited for a bit “You want to maybe talk about that?” he asked, trying not to let the worry tone seep through his voice and failing miserably. Somewhere between meeting and realising they became inseparable, partners in crime for life, Zayn told Louis all about Harry Styles, how they were friends, how Zayn fell _first-love-head-over-heels_ for him, and how he turned out not to be anything, not even close to what Zayn thought he was. But didn’t meant Louis understood “There’s nothing to talk about. I’ll give you a ride home” He didn’t mean to be rude, but he also couldn’t handle anyone expecting him to already have it figured so soon.

“Ok... I’m here though, yeah?”

Zayn started the car and they drove all the way in silence while he was deliberately not thinking about any of it. He dropped Louis at the coffee shop and was glad when the other boy didn’t brought anything up again, only nodding knowingly as a goodbye and disappearing through the stairwell that led upstairs to his flat. He turned on the radio in some random station so whatever was playing would drown the thoughts he was pushing to the back of his mind for later and drove to his own house, parking the car in the backstreet and entering through the kitchen door, purposely averting his eyes from the big house at the other end of the lot.

His mum and dad were making dinner and even though it risked having to hear the news about Harry all over again he went over and kissed their cheeks over their shoulders.

“Smells good” he wasn’t hungry at all _._

“It’ll take a while to be ready” his dad smiled, and suddenly everything became a little more okay. Zayn cleared his throat “I was actually thinking I’m gonna go to the docks for a bit if that’s alright”.

“Of course, dear” his mum smiled over her shoulder “How’s your day been?” she asked while stirring something in the pan. Zayn leaned on the counter, feeling like this day had been going on forever “Not much, hung out with Lou, got some parts I need to try on the boat” he scratched the back of his neck and moved to give her another kiss “don’t wait up yeah, might sleep there”. His mum hummed a yes and handed him a carrot and Zayn was off.

Being alone meant he could breathe properly for the first time since he got the news of Harry’s return, meant he could finally allow himself to think about green eyes that so many times unconsciously made their way into Zayn’s mind.

When they were kids, Harry and Zayn would race from the ice cream shop all the way down to the Styles’ dock at the end of the beach and then drop themselves side by side in the sand, trying to catch their breaths from running and laughing so hard. He remembered how Harry kissed him, he looked at Zayn’s arfing chest and loose smile and made a really cute determined face before leaning in. When Zayn kissed him back and rolled closer in the sand, Harry broke the kiss for a second, “I’m not like… gay or anything” he announced, even though a small smile still played in his lips. “Yeah” Zayn smirked climbing up his lap “bet you’re not.” he said, kissing the skin just below his ear making Harry grunt.

The first time Zayn kissed Harry was the summer after he turned eighteen and suddenly the air changed between them, got charged, heated. They’d been friends for over ten years, but then it was different, all of a sudden Zayn wanted to be around Harry all the time, he was too aware of the other boy touching him, too addicted by the scent of shampoo and sweat on his hair, too inebriated by the way his lips curled when he smirked. And it was too much, too long stares and too much electricity, Zayn remember thinking he might as well explode.

So he fixed it.

They’d been out smoking weed and chilling on the beach all afternoon, and when they were walking back home Zayn stopped in the middle of the empty street. The last, warmest light of day colouring everything in oranges and pinks. And Harry was rambling something they would never remember, when he realised Zayn was standing a few steps behind, a stoned giggle and a comment about how fucked Zayn was from the weed he couldn’t even walk, and then a moment of silence before Zayn walked the couple of steps between them and held Harry, a single hand by the back of his neck, guiding plump, pink lips to his own. Suddenly the world fell back on its axis. The whole moment suspended on air as they looked at each other, Harry’s fingers touched his lips that formed a perfect o, Zayn’s eyes asking a question.

Zayn should’ve gotten it  back then, when Harry didn’t kiss him back, just stayed very still and didn’t pull away when Zayn kissed him again. He should’ve known it was never the same to him as it was to Harry. Because in that moment everything made sense, from his undying crush on Keanu Reeves to the string of girls that never made his heart race like this, his whole body felt different. But he should have known, that it would never be the same again, because even if it meant everything to Zayn, to Harry it was just a fling, an adventure he had before going away for college and probably settling down with a pretty rich girl. This wasn’t his real live, it was only summer.

He sighed as he made a quick stop by his car to get the beers and then opened one before resuming his walk to the part of the beach where he kept the boat.

At his first week back from New York, Zayn was at Laguna’s and overheard Bill saying the Walters were getting rid of a yacht - an old reliq their youngest son had drunkenly drove to the stones. And for the couple of months since he came back, Zayn had been working on the boat, trying to fix it so maybe someday he could make it sail again. It became his project and when he worked on it he didn’t feel as restless.

Even though there was a lot to do, he already felt really accomplished for what he’s done, and the interior of the boat was not that destroyed, the bedroom was almost intact and the couch and cabinets at the lounge were proving not to be too hard to fix. To be honest, Zayn was really glad to have his own space, so he’d ordered a minibar online and the boat easily became his favourite spot and his and Louis’ go to when they wanted a lads night, to just chill or to smoke weed and get shitfaced.

He climbed the deck with ease and sat by the front, his legs dangling over the edge. He opened another bottle, throwing the empty one a few steps away in the sand. For what seemed the first time since Eleanor’s news, he closed his eyes.

Zayn hadn’t seen Harry ever since that summer, since before he moved to New York, and before he heard Harry was moving to California to study law at Stanford, just like his father did.

He let out a breath and took another sip, swiping the back of his hand over his mouth. His stubble was already showing, and he thought about how he liked looking like that, grown up, a little worned out. He didn’t looked as innocent, all sweet eyes and golden skin, no. He was all sharp edges now, cheekbones and piercings and tattoos. He briefly thought about Harry seeing him like this if he’d be curious to know everything that happened that made Zayn want to mark his skin, _some of them are about you, you know?_ Or if he would resume looking away as if he didn’t even wonder, as if he barely spared a thought about him.

It started to drizzle and Zayn got up and went below the deck, opening a cabinet and grabbing a bottle of whisky Louis brought for special occasions before dropping himself in the long couch without bothering to pick up a glass. He took a sip. _This might as well be a special occasion, since I’m having this huge pity party._

Zayn’s mind wandered to how Harry must be looking now, did he also felt the urge to mark his skin, to add pieces, symbols to his identity? Is he bulkier, skinnier, does he have a beard? “Oh My God! Is he married?” he whined to no one at all. _Of course he’s not married._ Zayn would know, he lived at Harry’s family’s fucking yard for fucks sake. _Get a grip, Z, what the fuck_.

He thought about it sometimes, tried to remember them before all the messed up parts, just two kids, tight as knots, growing up together summer after summer. He remembered clearly waiting for Harry to arrive in town down at the beach, from where he could spot the car as soon as it turned in the main road. Harry would always travel with his swimsuits already on under his clothes, so he’d jump out of the car as soon as they parked and come running to where he knew Zayn would already be.

When it rained they’d stay inside, talking about everything and building endless boat models, lying on the floor of Zayn’s room between all the scattered little pieces. Actually Zayn would, and Harry would watch him, teasing about how he’d stick his tongue out in concentration. It lasted for hours, until Zayn’s mom called them for lunch or to say Harry’s mom called and he had to head back to his house to clean up and put some fancy clothes to attend at some fancy dinner party.

Zayn never belonged to that part of it. He would always see Harry out and watch him sprint through the lawn yelling that _tomorrow I’ll be back so early I’ll wake you up_. And he really did, he’d get there at sun rise, and sit with Yaser as he ate his breakfast before getting to work, the early one at the Malik’s house. They’d talk a lot, Zayn never really knew about what, but Harry would always tell him how lucky he was for his family, especially his father. When Yaser left Harry would walk upstairs to Zayn’s room and depending on his mood either jump over him and rush him to go to the beach or join him under his covers and take a nap until Zayn woke up. Those were Zayn’s favourites.

He couldn’t tell when exactly his thinking became dreaming, but the next thing he knows _Zayn’s back at their last summer, waking up curled up to a warm body in his single bed. He doesn’t even have to turn to realise it’s Harry, it’s a sense, a warmness inside him that’s somehow familiar and unknown all at once._

_He turns anyway to look at him, his hair framing his sleepy face, his mouth in a little pout Zayn finds absolutely adorable. He feels the sudden urge to touch, to feel him under his fingertips, so he raises his hand to brush a strand of Harry’s hair away from his face and the other boy sighs before slowly opening his eyes, a loose smile making its way to his lips._

_“Hey” he says, sleep in his voice and Zayn leans in to kiss him._

_“Zayn” Harry’s voice sounds harsher when he moves away “what are you doing?”_

_Then the dream shifts and he’s at the Styles manor, the details seem a little foggy, he didn’t went into the house many times for someone who lived a few feet away, it was always Harry coming to him. He doesn’t know where to place his hands, he doesn’t belong there. There’s no one in sight as he walks through the hallways, but then he hears someone calling. He follows the voice and it’s Harry, sitting on the huge couch._

_“Hi, good you’re here” dream Harry never looks at Zayn “Can you get me a glass of water?”_

_“Uh” Zayn is confused as Harry arrogantly ads “For today, please”._

_“Uh, no Harry, you have two perfectly working legs, you can just get up and get it yourself” he answers annoyed and Harry turns to him for the first time, sitting a little straighter._

_“What is your name again?” He asks, and Zayn is about to answer in a not too polite way when-_

“What the fuck!” He yells as something hits his face.

“Mate, thought you were dead!” Louis lowers his hands, setting a second beer can on the coffee table “must’ve been close too, judging from all those bottles. This place is trashed”

“Fuck off Louis” Zayn mumbled while grumpingly massaging his temples “This is a judging free area, so if you came here to criticize me you can just go” his head was pounding really loud and when he talked the smell of his own mouth almost made him gag. The sun was up in the sky, making the cabin feel like an oven, so it must’ve been late already.

“Suit yourself mate, don’t mind me bringing you fries and a blunt the size of a fucking cuban cigar.” Louis said, already sitting by the end of the couch and searching the coffee table for a lighter. Zayn sighed heavily and slowly pulled himself up to a sitting position, he might as well be as stoned as he was hangover.

They spent the whole day smoking and talking about nothing in particular, they even played some dominos Zayn found stashed at one of the boats cabinets and Louis won every round, even though Zayn was pretty sure he cheated. Louis told him he was determined to finally ask Eleanor out this week, to which Zayn scoffed and said that it was more he got a date with a perfect stranger than Louis actually having the balls to ask her. But he never once asked about Harry, which Zayn was really glad for.

At some point Louis got up to leave, so Zayn went to see him out. He must’ve been really high because as he felt the sand in his toes, he promptly decided to strip down to his boxers and run into the sea, grinning at Louis who watched him from the beach, feeling the cold water on every inch of his weed sensitive skin. It felt like he was being cleansed, his energies renewed and, for the first time in a while, like everything would be okay. He was going to be okay. He he didn’t knew Harry anymore and Harry didn’t knew him, Zayn was not that boy that looked everything with wide eyes and a child curiosity, he’d been in other relationships, more mature ones he even broke a few hearts himself.

He emerged after what felt like quite some time to see Louis grinning back at him from the sand “g’night, Zee” he called, Zayn saluted him with two fingers on his forehead and then immersed his head underwater again, releasing all the air from his lungs. _It’d been a really good day_ he thought as he walked back to the boat, took a shower and draped himself sideways on the bed, too exhausted to stay awake.

He waked up early the next day, the first morning sun trickling through the holes in the deck and marking Zayn's chest in golden spots of light, a determined feeling in his chest. Maybe he could join his father at breakfast, show his face a little after almost two days he’d been holed up at the boat. So he put black skinnies and a white shirt on and made his way home.

Yaser was putting coffee on as Zayn came into the kitchen “G’morning” Zayn’s voice cracked.

“Good morning to you” his father turned to look him up, he was going for intimidating, but Zayn always felt at ease in his presence, even when he played the hard act, so he stepped into his space and laid his head at his dad’s chest, hugging his middle. After a couple seconds of silence Yasser spoke again “Everything ok?” Zayn could feel the vibrations of his dad’s voice in his chest and it felt like home and like everything was okay, like that was the sole reason he came back. To _feel_ this sound.

“Yep, all good” he said after a minute, giving a little squeeze before stepping back, turning to the cabinet and picking a mug for himself.

“Good...” his father said, reaching to pour coffee into Zayn’s mug, which he accepted gratefully “So. You can just grab some trunks and come up to the house with me” he added.

“I can… What? Why?”

Yaser raised his eyebrows “I thought you said you were _all good_ ”

“I am…” Zayn all but whined “Why?”

“Well as you must know Harry’s home and he needs someone to clean the pool, since it’s not summer yet and the David’s boy who use to do it is still in school”

“So?” Zayn almost choked at his coffee.

“So I told him I’d find someone” Yaser shrugged.

“I- why would i clean his pool?”

“Well, I guessed you’d like to see him, since it’s been a long time” Yaser kept eyeing him.

Zayn’s forehead was beginning to hurt the more he frowned. He knew he was being absolutely childish and ridiculous, but it was like he couldn’t stop “I don’t, really.”

“Also, we work for him” Yaser stated over his mug.

“Actually you work for him”

“Yeah, I do, and yet you willingly came back to live at my house” Yasser said with finality. Zayn cursed in his mind, but there was nothing much he could do, since his father had already made up his mind. The thing was, Yaser knew him too much, was too good at the whole being a dad thing, so Zayn sighed. “We might as well go now then, i don’t need to change” he said, as he tried and failed to be seen as a grown up. Yasser looked at his tight jeans and rolled his eyes a little, but didn’t say anything more while he led the way outside.

One of the reasons Zayn chose to come back from New York was to help his parents, who he knew weren’t that young anymore, who knows, maybe he could even make some money to himself while he figured what to do next. So, with or without Harry Styles on the picture, maybe working would do him good, stop the itch he couldn’t seem to stop from crippling his skin.

For all that his previous plan of having a quiet breakfast with his father didn’t work, Zayn was surprised to realise he was actually glad to go out in the daylight. It was a beautiful sunny day outside, the early morning air still blowing so it was not too hot. It was perfect. This was Zayn’s perfect day and he had just enough of worrying about Harry Styles, who might as well be still asleep or out buying the useless fancy stuff rich people liked so much. This was Zayn’s perfect day and even if he did saw Harry, he wouldn’t let him ruin it.

Zayn’s joy was short though, because after twenty minutes of cleaning the pool, even though there was no sign of Harry at all, Zayn already regretted being a snotty asshole badly, with all of the morning breeze gone and his sweat already dampening his hair and the heat of the sun prickling his skin, his shirt was useless, so sticky and wet that he decided to take - more like peel - it off and tossed it into one of the large sun beds. He took a deep breath, it was okay, he wouldn’t let it ruin his day, he might even go down to the beach later.

“Am I really awake or is this an awesome wet dream?” Zayn cursed at himself for thinking it too early and jinxing his own day, because he would never, in a million years not recognize this voice, even though it was rougher, from age and from sleep, he guessed.

He turned to find Harry Styles leaning at the glass doors, his hair long and up in a bun, a white shirt hanging open all the way, showing his inked torso and small baby blue shorts, a mug of coffee in his hands and such a smug face, Zayn couldn’t help but feel pleased when he saw falling, realisation taking its place.

“Zayn?” Harry schooled his face back to nonchalance.

“Harry.” he nodded once, not really looking at the other boy.

“Sorry about that, I was obviously joking” Harry Styles was never one to end up on the bad end of any situation. He had a way of not taking himself too seriously and throwing smiles away that got him to never look bad. The truth was, Zayn would be lying if he said Harry looked bad in anyway, point proven by him just waking up and looking fresh out of a home and lifestyle magazine.

“Obviously”

“I thought you were in New York” Harry said and sipped his coffee. Zayn felt part of a game, as if Harry did it all on purpose, measuring his every move and word, calculating, pressing buttons. He hated it.

“I’m not”.

“Obviously” Harry said, his eyes wondering for Zayn’s body for a long minute before he drank the last of his coffee and walked back in the house.

Zayn didn’t wait around to see him again, he cleaned for a few more minutes before thinking _fuck it_ , picking up his shirt and leaving without bothering to put anything away.

Harry Styles, who, last Zayn heard was studying to be a lawyer and follow on his dad’s path, who was -mind you - a complete prick, was back. Back to Zayn’s town, where he grew up and where he chose to come back to. Back to their town, where once upon a time they learned that they couldn’t be in the same room without touching each other, and that when they did it could create energy, electricity, magic.

Or at least Zayn learned it all, he was always a good observer.

He also learned about himself, about boys’ shoulder blades that made him tingle on the inside like no girl ever made, and mostly, about how to gather up the courage to own his feelings, to share them, to wear them proudly. And since he was such a good learner, he also learned to never, ever bargain his heart again. And he didn’t. Of course he had his fair share of boys to keep his bed warm, but he swore he would never bet in another mans cards again, only his own game, on what he could trust. It wasn’t bitterness. Harry had never promised him anything.

For all Zayn knew he was a overprotected kid who wanted an adventure, someone to make him sweat in the summer and found it on his summer childhood friend. After all, Zayn was there anyways. And Harry made it pretty clear too, that there were boundaries that whatever this was, whatever they were, it would be kept within.

For one, Zayn never went to _the_ house, he used to sometimes, before when they were kids, but somehow it became less and less common and after the first night they spent together Harry would sometimes sneak out and crawl into Zayn’s bed in the middle of the night, but Zayn would never do the same. Even though Zayn kissed him first, it was always Harry who set their pace.

He also set the pace about how serious it got - or rather it hadn’t gotten - it was just fun, and so, it was an unspoken rule that they didn’t talk about it, themselves and the things they did or plans and future and so. Whenever Zayn brought up the following year Harry would change the subject or make a joke, never a straight answer. That is, never until the day it all went down.

_They were sitting at the beach, had been swimming all morning and stealing kisses whenever there was no one in sight._

  _I wish it could be summer all year round” Harry said coming from a dip, and dropping himself by Zayn’s side on the sand, his body sparkling with droplets and his trunks up in his legs making that much more difficult for Zayn to avert his eyes._

_“Yeah” he mindlessly agreed “college is going to be all new”._

_Harry peered at him, green eyes shining and his hair dripping with sea water, he took a deep breath._

_“Are you okay?” Zayn asked grabbing Harry’s fingers on his._

_Harry nod, looking down at their joint hands. There was a moment of silence before Zayn went on “Really, ‘m not gonna know anyone, and i still don’t know where i’m going to live in New York or what i want to study-”_

_“Yeah Zayn, we got it” Harry said, dropping Zayn’s hand and looking away._

_“What?” Zayn already feeling his cheeks heat in anger. He was always a little explosive, got too defensive too fast._

_Harry didn’t answer right away and they fell into a charged silence for a minute._

_“I just think that” Harry paused “You’re always saying your life is too hard but you have everything figured out”_

_“What” He asked again, laughing bitterly “I have everything figured out? I didn’t even knew if i was going to be able to go to college until last week when I got the scholarship news.”_

_“You got them last week?”_

_“Yeah Harry, but you wouldn’t know, would you?” Zayn asked annoyed._

_“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry bit back._

_“Never mind, Harry”_

_“No Zayn, you can say it, how your life is so miserable and my life is so perfect.” He got up on his feet, Zayn following right after._

_“Right Harry, because your life is so hard. You have a spot on an Ivy League since you were born!” Zayn spat. Harry began to walk away, but Zayn stepped right behind him._

_“You know nothing about this” Harry’s eyes were filled with tears when he looked at Zayn._

_“Yeah, and why is that, Harry? You never fucking talk to me!” Zayn was really angry, but it almost sounded like he was pleading._

_“Because you don’t know how my real life is like! You only know this, summer!” Harry stopped on his tracks._

_Zayn felt tears threatening to spill on his eyes, but he swallowed them back “Right. Let’s just end summer right now then, yeah?” he said as sternly as he managed and turned to walk away to his house without looking back._

Harry didn’t come after him right then. And he didn’t come after him afterwards. Zayn discovered from his dad that he’d gone back to pack for college early. No wonder. Maybe it got too serious, it wasn’t fun anymore.

So him coming back, really, wasn’t a big deal. Zayn was already used to the rich bastards that come and went every year, he was just another one. And Zayn had learned so much more since then. He knew there was no such thing as fairytale scenarios in real life, no. People from the kitchen ended up with people from the kitchen and people from the castle ended up with people from the castle. That was the way the world worked.

All-in-all, Zayn knew he couldn’t complain that Harry’s coming back changed the way things were, since he pretty much was staying in his lane for most of the time. Not that Zayn expected anything more or anything less, to be honest he also didn’t know what to expect once your _childhood-friend-slash-first-love_ came back to live in the house at the middle of the property you also lived in. The truth was, Zayn had less to complain about Harry than about his own traitorous mind who kept flashing back to times when they used to know each other, making the present time Zayn more anxious and even more grumpy.

The good part was that he channeled all of his energy into working on the boat, and every morning Zayn went to the decks just after having breakfast. It really worked for most of the time, but when he went to town to pick up stuff at the hardware store or to help his mom with the groceries it seemed all the people could talk about was Harry Styles and Zayn had to really try not to roll his eyes everytime he was mentioned, after all, he didn’t care. Much. So he schooled his bitterness and started changing the subject everytime someone told him how Harry was handsome with his long hair or how he still knew everyone’s names and was really polite. And everything was just fine.

But for all that Zayn learned from his mistakes, he should really stop jumping into conclusions too early, too.

Because barely a couple of weeks had passed since Harry came back, until the morning Zayn was screwing lose boards at the bottom of the boat and turned to see no one less than Harry Styles jogging by, basketball shorts hanging dangerously low on his waist and his lean torso glistening with sweat. Zayn’s mouth went a little dry as he stared at the other boy’s body a second too much. After all, he was only human and Harry had gotten all these new tattoos. When he looked up, Harry was staring back at him, a smirk forming on his lips before he turned around and made his way back.

And so it begun, every morning as Zayn worked Harry would run at the beach, watch him with that smug face of his and not say a word, which was making Zayn that much more irritable. He wasn’t used to feel self conscious, back in New York all he had to do when he went into a room was choose who he wanted to go home with and, no matter who the guy was, it almost always worked out for Zayn. He knew he was good looking, he knew how to play the game like no one else, but Harry had a way of looking at him that threw him that much off of it.

“Does he have a problem with me?” he angrily asked Louis one afternoon “We get it, he’s fucking successful and I came back to my parents house with a useless diploma and am currently spending all my time trying to fix a piece of junk.”

“I thought we’re not supposed to call it junk”

“ _You’re_ not supposed to” Zayn all but huffed “That’s hardly the point?”

“He seemed like just another rich kid for me” Louis sipped his beer ignoring Zayn’s frown “Eleanor ran into him at Laguna’s yesterday” if it wasn’t enough with the whole Harry thing, it’d been almost a week since Lou finally went out with Eleanor and now they were glued by the hip and Zayn hadn’t seen his best friend all week “guess I’m the one that should probably worry, since she seems to think he’s the best thing to ever walk the earth” He tilted the rest of the beer “I get it though, he’s your ex”

“He’s not my ex” Zayn rolled his eyes but reached out for another beer and handed it to Louis.

Harry could be as successful as he was, he had no right to look him down, Zayn was exactly where he chose to be _and his boat was coming along just fine_ he thought as Louis went on about throwing Eleanor a party for her birthday, which Zayn wasn’t exactly against, this town could use some alcohol to mess it up a bit and he was in definite need to blow some of the steam he was building up watching Harry’s magazine body and snobbish face run along the beach every single day.

...

After he dropped Louis off later that day Zayn went to the market to restash all the beer they drank.

He had just finished parking the car and was making his way to the store when he saw Martha walking out, a bag on each hand. She smiled when she noticed him and he jogged the few steps to her before greeting the old woman with a kiss on the cheek and picking up the bags, only to find them super light.

“Oh Zayn dear, that’s only toilet paper, no use for your arms” she laughed kindly.

“Is that all? Do you want me to-” Zayn begun, but she smiled and waved him off “Oh no dear, Harry here is helping me” and just as she said he looked up to see no less than Harry Styles coming their way with two heavy looking boxes perched on his arms. Zayn stared at him until he got to them.

“Oh, hi Zayn” Harry said smiling a little once he lowered the boxes on the parking lot floor and looked up to Zayn. Zayn remembered how how he thought his name would never be his own anymore after the first time Harry moaned it. How after that it was Harry’s to do as he pleased with it, he could have it. He could have it all. Of course it wasn’t the same now, but it was still something, hearing him say it. Zayn needed a moment.

Martha seemed amused by Zayn’s lack of response so he shaked his head a little and managed to mumble a “Hey” as he too set the bags on his hands to the floor “Well, if you’re good I think ‘m just gonna go” he stepped back.

“Weren’t you-” Martha begun, but Harry cut her “Actually” he paused, looking unsure “its just” he rubbed his neck as the other two waited for him to go on “the boxes are really heavy and we got a little carried away, the fruits were really fresh so there’s two of them and we’re on foot, so-” Zayn watched as Harry finished rumbling. He always did that back then. Zayn used to find it endearing, which might have to do with him not answering, but picking up one of the boxes.

“I drove here, do you want to?” He turned to ask Martha, motioning to the car.

“Oh no, there’s no need, it’s just around the corner, right?” she looked at Harry, but for all he talked just now he was promptly silent. There was an awkward moment before he realised he’d been talked to “Right” he mumbled “right” and picked the other box up.

The short walk to the restaurant was silent if not for Martha blabbering something about summer being near, to which Zayn didn’t pay much attention to. Instead, he was paying attention to Harry’s presence as they walked side by side. It’s not like they didn’t see each other, because for some reason Harry ran by his boat everyday, but it was the first time since he got back they stayed this long on each other company.

Once they helped Martha putting everything where it belonged on the kitchen and endured a string of kisses and hugs, they both stepped outside, the bell bouncing as the door closed behind them. The early night air was warm and a soft breeze played with Zayn’s hair as he awkwardly stood there with Harry in front of Laguna’s without knowing what to say.

“Do you remember” Harry started, smiling a little like it was a good memory “The summer we ate so much ice cream we-”

“We’re not doing the whole childhood friends reminiscing thing, Harry” Zayn said, his head suddenly aching.

“Okay” Harry looked at his feet, the awkward silence creeping back between them through the night air “okay…” he all but whispered. Zayn wasn’t a mean person. He almost never snapped, not for real, and also didn’t treat people badly. Everybody who met him stressed on how good he was, so why did Harry threw him off so easily.

“I’m just” he sighed “it’s just late and i still have to pick some stuff up, so...”

“Yeah, right, of course” Harry said, a polite smile that didn’t reach his eyes on his face.

Zayn cursed to himself, but let out a breath and said “I can give you a ride if you want to” Harry looked at him for a moment, as if to guess if he was joking, but then he nodded “I just have to pick some stuff first”.

“Okay” Harry said quickly “Of course”.

They made their way back to the supermarket and Zayn handed Harry the keys so he could wait in the car as he went in to get the beers he went there for. As he made his way through the frozen aisles, Zayn wondered if maybe the heat was making his brain melt. He was a grown up. It’d been five years since the day he came out and Harry stopped talking to him. Of course it was fucking awful, he was young and in love. They had a summer, but then Harry would go back to his real life afterwards, to his real friends. Zayn was never a part of this life. Plus Harry turned out to be a self righteous prick. So why was he looking so soft and unsure right now Zayn wouldn’t know.

He took a deep breath as he made his way through the parking lot holding three packs of beer, and then saw Harry leaning against a car that wasn’t his, idly turning the set of keys Zayn handed him earlier on his finger. As he approached Harry sheepishly said “I got the keys but i don’t know which car is yours”.

Zayn couldn’t help but smile “You almost got it” he said, pointing at his car parked just in the next spot. Harry grinned and handed him the keys, pushing his weight forward and following Zayn as he opened the car. He stared at the beers as Zayn set them on the backseat.

“I’m having a party” Zayn said seriously and then watched as Harry’s mouth formed a perfect o and he looked down. He waited a bit before adding “light up Styles, I’m just joking”.

Harry looked at him at loss.

“Mate, things change, but they’d have to be rewritten in order to Harry Styles not to get invited to a party on the Hamptons” Zayn said as he started the car. Harry laughed bitterly “What? Isn’t that a good thing?” Zayn asked, eying him sideways as he maneuvered out of the parking lot.

“Yeah, yeah” Harry said, turning the rings on his fingers “It’s just-” he sighed “It’s just my parents are coming over next week for their big wedding anniversary party and they can be… A lot.”

“Oh, right, my mom mentioned it. Forty years, right?” Zayn whistled “It’s a long time”.

“Yeah” Harry agreed.

“Bet they’ll be too busy to even get on your back”.

Harry laughed dryly “Oh, they will find the time once I tell them I took time off of law school” Zayn looked at him then, only to find Harry already looking at him hesitantly, like he didn’t knew if he was saying to much.

“You-?”

Harry mimicked Zayn’s whistle “Right?!”

“Yeah”

“It’s okay though” Harry announced “‘cause i’m not afraid of what they’ll think.”

“Yeah...” Zayn said again.

“Sorry, I-” Harry said, looking down again “It’s not your problem”

“It’s okay”.

They drove in silence until Zayn parked in front of the main house to drop Harry first. He got out of the car and closed the door behind him, but leaned by the open passenger window.

“Thanks, Zayn” he said, pulling a strand of his hair back behind his ear “It was funny you showed up, Martha wouldn’t shut up about you” he seemed to only think about his words once they were out, because a flush rose to his cheeks.

“Sure” Zayn smiled, feeling his face warm up a bit too “She’s a good one”.

“Yeah she is” Harry agreed and waved once before turning around and walking to his house.

That night Zayn dreamt of green irises and in the next morning he made sure to look away when Harry ran to his direction but to watch as soon as he turned his back and ran back from his morning trot by the beach.

...

When Zayn woke up on saturday, the first thing he noticed was the smell of coffee and… was that fresh bread? It’d been over an year since he ate his father’s bread recipe fresh in the morning. So he slip on a pair of joggers and jumped down the stairs two at a time. His joy was short though, since he almost stumbled on Harry Styles standing in the middle of his kitchen.

“Morning” Yasser said as Zayn slowed his pace and straightened his back. Harry had an amused face as he turned to look at him.

“Yeah” Zayn mumbled, making his way to the cabinets above the sink to get a mug.

“Oh, Yasser, I was just forgetting, I need you to take me to Donna’s house just outside of town later so she can have my fitting for the smoking for the anniversaire”. Zayn didn’t know when he got so dramatic, but he could swear everytime Harry said something pompous like _‘anniversaire’_ he couldn’t help but mimic him in a childish voice in his head.

“Not today, son” Yasser said as he got up and cleared his plate “I’m picking up your mother in New York.” he looked at his watch “In fact, I have to get going too, still need to fill the tank”.

“Fuck-, right” Harry rubbed his forehead “they’re coming today, I forgot” he said, anxiousness seeping through his words. Zayn thanked he had his back to the conversation and rolled his eyes, but Harry went on “Maybe Zayn can take me” Zayn almost choked on his coffee.

“Can’t you drive yourself?” He asked turning towards the two other man.

“I never got my license” Harry answered, waving a hand in dismissal “Of course I’ll pay you” he added, and Zayn wondered when did Harry get so uptight.

“You did said you needed some extra to spend on the boat” his traitorous father joined in. Zayn blew in his mug.

Why the fuck was Harry asking to spend a good three hour journey stuck in a car with him if all they did since he came back was bicker like old ladys Zayn wouldn’t know, but the truth was he really needed the money and the few eventual jobs he took didn’t even begin to pay Louis back for all the material he was getting. Plus, it was funny to see Harry so desperate.

He took a dramatic breath. “You’re buying lunch too, though” he said without meeting Harry’s eyes.

“Oh, we’re eating there, Donna would kill me if i went to visit her with a full stomach” Zayn could feel Harry’s eyes on him but kept staring at the bottom of his mug.

“I’ll have to charge you extra for the short notice”

“I understand”

“I’m definitely picking the music” Zayn looked up just in time to see Harry rolling his eyes “Okay...” Yasser seemed very amused by the whole conversation “Anything else?” Harry asked.

“We’re taking the Mustang” Zayn finished, looking Harry straight in the eye with a challenge. The other boy held his gaze for a bit, but a smirk played on his lips when he nodded. Zayn nodded back once and placed the mug on the sink “I’ll pick you up in an hour” he said as he walked past Harry and towards the stairs.

For all that Harry Styles is, Zayn can never complain he doesn’t go by his word. And so, fifty minutes later, when Zayn drove towards the entrance of the main house, Harry was already waiting outside, a camera on his hands. Zayn roared the motor and Harry looked up from the tiny screen, he was wearing a white shirt and black skinnies to match the black sunglasses perched on his nose. Unfortunately for Zayn he still looked really good, which made the whole not giving a fuck about him much more difficult. Harry waved a little and jogged in front of the car to the passenger side.

“Hi” Harry greeted as he pulled the door closed.

“Are you going to model for yourself?” Zayn motioned to the camera with his head.

“No, but I might see something I want to catch and I rather be prepared than sorry” Harry bit back.

Zayn started the car with a roar.

They made their way to the road that lead out of town in silence, Zayn’s eyes fixed on the road even when he noticed Harry started fidgeting and glancing at him from time to time. After two minutes he couldn’t take it anymore “What?”.

“Sorry” Harry said “Are we just-” he motioned to the panel “You said you’d be choosing the music, but we’re not listening to anything”

“Fuck” Zayn mumbled, tapping his pockets “I forgot my fucking phone”.

“Oh” Harry checked the time on his own phone “We can go back if you want to...”.

Zayn shook his head, the thought of getting back and adding twenty more minutes of weirdness between him and Harry was definitely a no for him. He let out a breath “It’s okay”.

But Harry wasn’t done, since he went back to shaking his legs “What, Harry?”

“Can i put my phone on, then?”

Zayn huffed another breath without averting his eyes from the way “Yeah, fine” he said, and the other boy smiled as he started fumbling with the plug.

“Just no Shania Twain” he added and Harry barked a laugh.

“Ok” he smiled, and Zayn would be lying if he said he didn’t smile too.

“And stop with the leg shaking”.

Harry’s playlist was really good, Zayn had to admit to himself after a couple of Fleetwood Mac songs. He was beginning not to feel weird about the silence between them and to actually relax and enjoy driving this car. A few minutes passed before Harry broke the silence “You’re loving it because it’s John Wick’s car, aren’t you?” he was watching him and Zayn hadn’t noticed. “Maybe” he said, a smile creeping at the corners of his mouth and Harry smiled back. They kept driving in a comfortable silence until they got to Donna’s house.

Donna turned out to be a lovely old lady who made all of the sewing jobs the Styles’ needed since Harry was a little boy. She came to the door to greet them in a flowy purple dress and held Harry in a tight hug “Harry my dear, it’s been so long!” She had one of those smiles that put you at ease and make you want to be good “And who might that be?” She looked at Zayn and cupped his face on her hands “He’s so handsome!” she gave Harry a approving look and Zayn watched as the other boy’s cheeks flushed with red “He is” Harry agreed without looking at Zayn, like it was the most obvious thing in the world and then it was his cheeks burning a bit.

“I’m Zayn” he said, offering a hand, but Donna enveloped him in a hug just as tight as she gave Harry. They came into the house to meet a living room turned into an atelier, full of sewing materials, a huge table, a couple of machines and pieces and pieces of different fabrics all around.

Harry was there to adjust his suit for the huge party, but Donna rushed them past the entrance and towards a dining room where the table was set and the smell of a home made meal was filling the air “Come on, come on, sit down! I want to hear everything!”.

“Donna here swears she’s a needlewoman, but I only come here for the food” Harry told Zayn while handing her his plate to fill “She’s a chef in disguise”.

“Oh please, I cook like a grandma”

Zayn moved to serve himself but Donna slapped his hand and reached for his plate, which he gave her, amused by the whole exchange.

Harry looked really comfortable and lunch went on with him asking her about her grandchild who he seemed to know by name. Of course Zayn remembered Harry always being good with people, but this was somehow different, it wasn’t only politeness as much as affection from both sides.

Zayn was already so full he was considering opening his jeans when Donna announced that there was still desert and went to get it inside. Zayn was surprised to realise he’d been smiling for a while. And when he looked across the table to Harry, there was a brief moment when he noticed the other boy was already watching him before he looked down.

After desert they went back into the first room and Zayn sat on a stool as Donna and Harry began to work on his mesures. They all talked less now, enjoying the full stomach in silence. The time passed fast and when Zayn peered at Harry, he already knew they were done before Donna even said it out loud. He looked like a movie star, straight out of a red carpet, the jacket hugging his shoulders and waist perfectly and his legs going for miles before reaching his bare feet. Zayn felt his mouth go dry and when he looked back up, Donna was watching him and he felt like a child caught doing something wrong.

He excused himself and went to grab a glass of water in the kitchen as he tried to stop his thoughts from rushing. Harry was back. He didn’t seem like the snob rich guy as Zayn somehow made himself believe during almost five years, he kept helping people instead, and staring at Zayn with that fucking green eyes. Plus, Zayn was horny, that was for sure, since he last had sex in New York more than a month ago and Harry had somehow gotten hotter. Zayn was fucked. Or more accurately, he needed to _get_ fucked.

When he went back into the room, Harry was already finishing putting his normal clothes and Donna was carefully packing his tuxedo for the way back.

When they were done she led them outside, making Zayn promise to visit again, kissing them both at the cheeks and then waving goodbye until the car turned at the end of the street.

The way back was quiet and in no time at all they were almost in the middle of the journey, the sun starting to set and the warm afternoon breeze fumbling with Zayn’s hair through his open window every now and then.

Harry had dozed off fifteen minutes ago, his head propped on the window, his bottom lip pouting a little, when the car gurgled once and then slowed to a stop.

Zayn managed to pull on the side of the road “What’s up?” Harry asked, his voice hoarse as he slowly blinked away the sleep.

“I don’t know” Zayn said as he unbuckled his seatbelt. He tried to start the car again but it only made a weird noise “Wait here”. He stepped out and made his way to the front to have a look at the engine, which after a few minutes he decided seemed normal enough. He didn’t know what was wrong.

Harry watched him as he came to the passenger window “We’re gonna need to call Louis” he said, running his fingers through his hair.

Harry frowned

“What?” Zayn sighed “Can we please use your phone?”

“Yeah, yeah sure” Harry fished his phone from his too tight front pockets and clicked the home button only to watch the screen as it did nothing. “Uh” he turned for Zayn to see it and then dropped the dead phone on his legs “Great” he mumbled.

“Fuck!” Zayn exclaimed at the now darkening sky. He paced for two seconds and climbed back on the driver’s seat, banging the door closed “Why do people who are perfectly able to buy the car of the year still keep this fucking junk” he mumbled.

Harry stifled a laugh.

“What!” Zayn turned to him and Harry held his hands up “Sorry” he smiled “You were the one making up all this stupid rules before agreeing to give me a fucking ride”.

Zayn narrowed his eyes, searching for something witty to say back but coming up empty. His mind kept betraying him when it came to Harry.

They sat in silence for a few minutes until Harry cleared his throat.

“So...” Zayn looked at him but he was looking at his hands “Is Louis the-” Harry let the end hanging, so he waited a bit before answering

“Best friend, Louis is the best friend”

“Oh” Harry was still looking down, but Zayn could see the pink colouring his neck and ears “Right”.

“Have you, though?” Harry asked after a few minutes of silence “I mean, dated anyone”

Zayn looked at him, assessing his face for a bit before answering “Yeah, i did” Harry held his gaze but didn’t say anything “A couple of serious ones” He looked outside the window, the night becoming darker and darker by the minute “Have you?” he asked back and was as surprised by himself as Harry seemed to be.

“I have, actually” Harry said slowly “Two boys and a girl”.

Zayn tried to school his face not to seem as startled as he felt, but failed. The thump of his heart suddenly distracting as he tried to slow his thoughts.

Harry smiled and asked “What?”

“Nothing” Zayn cleared his throat “I guess i didn’t know”.

Harry looked at him curiously, but didn’t say anything else and they felt silent again until Harry cleared his throat

“We should try again” Zayn looked at him startled for a minute, before realising he was staring at the car panel.

“Right” he managed to say, his racing heartbeat probably giving out his panic to half a mile radius as he turned the keys again. The car gurgled for a slow second, before roaring back to life like the stubborn old piece of junk it was. Zayn let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he drove back to the road now completely immersed in the night sky.

...

In the morning that followed his and Harry’s little road trip, Zayn made his way to the boat with a bag full of tools just shortly after breakfast, as he’d made countless days before.

The bottom of it was beginning to look as good as new and Zayn had been working on it all morning when he noticed Harry hadn’t showed for his run like he’d been doing since he came back to town. Not that Zayn minded.

Not at all, he only barely slept the night before, his mind running faster than he could possibly keep up. The thing was, Harry had dated not one, but two boys since him. And a girl. But two boys, which meant Zayn wasn’t a _you-only-live-once_ kind of youth experiment. Which he was glad for, but he kept wondering if they were preppy asholes and also if Harry has ever told his parents. And he added to all the wondering the reason Harry had skipped his morning run for.

He called Louis to see if they could hang, but he’d changed his shift at the store so he could help Eleanor with the party tomorrow. So Zayn decided the next best thing was going for fries and a giant milkshake at Laguna’s for a late lunch.

He took a while to get there, surprised to see the streets already filling up with people coming to spend the summer.

The familiar bounce of the bell announced the door opening and closing behind him as Zayn made his way straight to the counter to be greeted by Martha with a kiss on the cheek and a promise to rush his order since he looked really thin this afternoon. As he turned to look for an empty booth he heard someone calling him.

“Zayn, hi!” Harry stopped on his way back to a table a little further where Mrs. Styles sat looking at the menus.

“Hi” Zayn answered, Harry was smiling at him and he felt a little dizzy “Was the road trip really that tiring?”

“What?” Harry made a face.

“Because you never missed your morning run before”

“Oh” he looked straight to Zayn’s eyes “You’re keeping track?” Zayn’s face heat up. He was. “I didn’t miss it” Harry smiled “I went earlier, got really anxious about my parents being here”

“And here I was, thinking you finally stopped with this waking up before the sun nonsense” Zayn smiled too.

“Actually, I always wake up before the sun” Harry was all but smirking now “I just realised if I go running a little later I have extra motivation” he said, looking Zayn straight in the eye.

Zayn almost choked but managed to say “Do you?” and held his gaze for a long second.

“Harry, are you coming?” Anne Styles called from the table she was at.

Harry looked at her and then at Zayn “Sorry, I” he sheepishly motioned to his mother.

“How is that going, huh?”

Harry whistled and Zayn let out a loud laugh.

“Is that? Oh my god! Zayn, honey, come here!” she all but wailed from her seat “Come, come, sit with us!” Harry gave him an apologetic look before they both made their way to the table.

Anne kissed him on the cheek, asking how he’s been and talking about how it’s been ages, he was _so_ different.

After a little while Martha brought all of their orders, hanging at the table for a bit to catch up with Mrs. Styles. Zayn found Harry’s eyes and they shared a knowing look, Harry trying not to laugh as Zayn rolled his eyes.

“Oh, we’ve been swamped on party planning for next week!” Anne sighed and Martha made a face all too familiar for Zayn, a _can-imagine-but-also-don’t-understand-why-you-rich-people-keep-making-up-problems_ and he was trying and failing to hide a grin when Anne turned to him.

“Zayn!” she exclaimed, her energy was so tiring Zayn couldn’t begin to imagine what it was like for Harry “Harry told me you took him to Donna’s! Does that mean you’re doing side jobs? You should totally serve at the party too! Use the money to buy yourself something nice!” Anne added brightly.

Zayn glanced over to Harry who had a scandalized look on his face as he gaped at his mother.

“Mom, I don’t think that-” He begun.

“I bet this face of yours wouldn’t look bad at all in a tuxedo!” she went on and Harry looked like if he could bury himself he would.

“That’s really nice, Mrs. Styles” He said slowly as Harry turned to gape at him next “Of course I’ll do it”.

He looked at the time on his phone “I need to get going now, though” he said politely “Thanks for the company” Harry wiped his mouth

“Think I’m gonna go with Zayn, my head is killing me” he said, already standing up.

They said quick goodbyes and then walked out of the diner. Zayn kept throwing  searching glances towards Harry, but the other boy followed him silently towards the car and climbed on the passenger seat. As soon as Harry closed his door he turned to Zayn.

“Zayn I’m-” he rubbed his face “I’m so sorry, I don’t know why she’s like this”.

“Like what Harry?” Zayn asked, trying to sound nonchalant and failing.

“Like-” he huffed a breath “I don’t know, like that!”

“Harry, they offered me a job, if I didn’t felt like it I would just say no” Zayn kept his hands at the wheel.

“But I was going to invite you!” he exclaimed.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t, and now I’m going as a waiter, ok?” Zayn finally looked at him “Can we leave it?”

Harry still looked upset, but he dropped it, nodding once before Zayn turned the keyes and drove them home.

He paused before getting out of the car and looked at Zayn “Uh, Eleanor invited me for the party tomorrow” Zayn waited as Harry looked down hesitantly “Guess I wanted to see if it was okay for you, I know she’s your friend first and all that”. Zayn was surprised he didn’t even missed a bit.

“Yeah Harry, we can go to the same party”

Harry looked him in the eye for a moment “Okay” a small smile showed on his lips “I’m going now”.

He got out of the car and had already walked a couple of steps towards the house, as Zayn watched his back, but then he seemed to think better of it and turned back “thanks, Z” he called and Zayn couldn’t help the smile on his face and the chill that went through him with the memory of the nickname.

...

Louis always made a big deal of birthdays, and Eleanor’s, was definitely not one to be different.

The first year they met, on Zayn’s birthday, Louis threw a party at their dorm room which may or may not have ended up with them having to repaint the walls after a formal warning from the building administration.

So Zayn already knew the party was going to be memorable, Louis had rented a storage house near the road and spent the whole week cleaning it up, and was now texting Zayn to _don’t fucking forget the weed, bro -_ which he definitely was going to - since his stash was now permanently in the boat.

He fixed his hair one last time as he stared himself in the mirror. With the whole return of the Harry thing he’d totally forgot he was going to cut it and now had to spend extra minutes trying to sort out how to style it, but the longer strands also looked good, the black of it and his beard framing his face. He felt the familiar tingle in his fingers before a party he was eager to go, somehow telling him that was a night he’d be rewarded for the wait, and Zayn realised how he’d miss this.

In New York he used to go out every weekend and sometimes on weekdays after his shift on whichever restaurant he’d been working at the time - since Louis apparently kept his grades up all through college without ever opening a single book - but not all nights made him feel like this. Mirror Zayn stared him back like he was waiting for him to go on. But Zayn absolutely wouldn’t let himself go there, not at the deep end of green eyes. I mean, he knew Harry was going to be there, but that didn’t mean anything, he was still Harry Styles and Zayn was still work staff, nothing had changed at all. So he narrowed his eyes at Mirror Zayn and made his way out.

The night was pleasantly warm, so when he got to the sand he took of his boots, getting the sudden need to feel the warmth of it between his toes. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. New York could have all the lights, but it was here, the beach in his backyard that made Zayn feel so free, like anything was possible.

After a while he looked up to see a silhouette walking towards him. Harry waved ungracefully and jogged a few steps, a camera hanging from his shoulder.

“Hey” Zayn said as he got close enough. Harry looked really good, on tight black skinnies and a white flowy shirt shamelessly unbuttoned to his navel.

“Hi” he said, a little breathless. Now that he was close, Zayn realised he not only looked great, but also smelled really, really good. He was absolutely fucked. Harry was grinning at him.

“So…?” Zayn was going to play it cool. He could do this.

“Right, sorry” Harry sheepishly shaked his head “thought you’d might want to share the uber”.

Zayn rolled his eyes “Harry, my dad is your driver” Harry chuckled and Zayn smiled too.

“Well, then I’m crashing your uber ride” his dimpled smile still as mesmerising as Zayn remembered, he held onto it for a bit.

“Yeah, ok” Zayn finally said.

He turned around and climbed the deck, feeling Harry’s eyes on his back “I’ll just pick something up”.

“So” Harry kept talking from the sand “What’s with the boat thing?”

“I’m fixing it”

“Yeah, but what for?”

Zayn paused “what do you mean? I’ll make it sail again”

“Are you sailing it, though?”

“I guess…”

“Hm”

“What, Harry?”

“Nothing” he looked at his boots as he toed the sand “Can i see it?”

“Yeah, if you want to” but Harry was already putting the camera up and then climbing the side of the rail. Zayn offered his hand.

When Zayn told his mother about his first crush, she told him that when you feel the electric pull for someone it’s almost certain the other person feels it too. That’s how she knew to go talk to his father after they accidentally touched for the first time. It used to happen all the time for him and Harry, when their eyes found each other in a crowd, when they laughed at the same jokes no one else found funny and especially when their fingers touched. Boom, it was sparks and racing hearts. Now, when he took his hand, Zayn wondered if she was right, if Harry felt it too.

Once he was up, Zayn led the way down to the cabin, Harry following close.

“Nice touch” Harry said, pointing to the frigobar.

“There’s beer in it, if you want some” Zayn said as he reached for the stash he kept on a drawer.

“Do you?” Harry sounded unsure “Want one?”

“Sure” Zayn smiled.

Harry opened two bottles and handed him one “cheers!” he grinned back and sipped. Zayn used to say his mouth should be considered a public threat. It still was.

He cleared his throat “Should we get going?”

“Yeah” Harry led the way outside.

...

Of fucking course Harry Styles was a chatty uber passenger. By the time they reached the party He already knew the name of the driver’s cat and shared two recipes, Zayn’s eyes were hurting from how many times he rolled them at the whole conversation. He was enjoying it, though, as hard as it was to admit it, Harry was really easy to be around. He’d always had this thing about him that made it comfortable for others to be near him.

Once they got to the party, the building was already filled with people coming in and out and they could hear the music from the sidewalk outside.

They went separate ways when they got in, Harry found someone he knew and Zayn told him he’d go looking for Louis.

Louis found him first, though, a few steps into the dancefloor, throwing his already drunk weight on Zayn’s side.

“Did you come with Harry?”

“We shared an uber” Zayn said, his faked coolness showing, so reached for whatever Louis was drinking and took a big sip. Louis narrowed his eyes at him.

“Your father is a driver”

“I know” Zayn said rolling his eyes again and tilting the rest of the drink “I’m gonna get another, do you want one?”

“No I’m good bro” Louis answered “Have fun, yeah?”

“You know it” Zayn winked at him and walked towards the bar.

Zayn was already on the fourth or fifth drink and had shared at least one spliff on the balcony when a tall guy approached him and told him his name was Adam or Blake as he leaned by his side at the bar. Zayn checked the stranger up. He was handsome, dark skin glowing all shades of red and blue and green from the party lights.

“What are you drinking?” Adam or Blake asked.

“Alcohol I guess” Zayn answered, and then grinned at his own joke. Tall guy thought he grinned at him and reached for his hand. Zayn would definitely hook up with him if he was still in New York. But here was different, he wouldn’t take some guy he just met to his parents house, and he absolutely wouldn’t go to some mansion where this guy was most likely staying only to have sex on overpriced sheets and have to make up an excuse to go home before sunrise. So instead he leaned in to the stranger’s ear and said “I gotta pee” before he walked away.

Zayn leaned in the brick wall waiting to use the toilet as his world spinned and he felt old. _Tomorrow is probably gonna suck balls._ _Suck balls, haha._

He heard a bright laugh and when he opened his eyes Harry was there.

“What?” Zayn slurred , looking at the other boy and already smiling too.

“You just mumbled something and I thought I heard _suck balls_ ”.

“Yeah”

“Yeah what?”

“ _Suck balls_ , yeah” he giggled.

Harry was closer and damn, Zayn really, really liked this cologne of his.

“I like your beard” Harry said, looking at his mouth as the laughing stopped as fast as it begun.

“We’re not laughing” Zayn licked his lips.

“No, we’re not”

“Are we having this conversation out loud?” Zayn asked, a smile playing his lips again.

Harry was still staring at his mouth before he leaned in and kissed him, just a touch of their lips, like a question. And then, when he looked back up, Zayn burst out laughing.

Harry looked at him in confusion for a bit but then joined him and suddenly they both couldn’t stop laughing anymore. Harry slid down the wall and sat on the ground holding his stomach and Zayn followed him.

“Sorry” Zayn managed to say after a while as he took Harry’s hand on his.

“Yeah” Harry looked at their joint hands, the laughing fading out again. He traced Zayn’s fingers with his other hand.

Suddenly the room was charged.

“Do you want to go?” Harry’s voice was almost a whisper.

“Yeah” Zayn drawled and watched as the other boy’s face lit up in a smile.

Harry got up and offered his hand to Zayn, which he took again, Harry squeezed once and started leading the way out between all the people on the dancefloor who didn’t even knew what was going on, inside him, between them, who were all oblivious to how important it was.

But Zayn stopped midway before they could get across the room and Harry looked at him, self conscious all of a sudden, a question in his eyes.

“Wait” Zayn mouthed in response and turned around to walk back the distance towards the bar, reaching behind it and grabbing a bottle “Now we’re good” he grinned.

Harry beamed at him and reached for his free hand.

If Zayn were to thought about what he was doing, he probably wouldn’t allow himself to go there, but as it was, Harry’s presence and the alcohol on his system made it all that much harder for him to think straight.

The whole drive back was charged, Zayn feeling like he might explode any minute that passed in which he and Harry only touched hands, Harry’s fingers playing with his own, already making him half hard in his pants.

Once they got home, the car dropped them off in the driveway that led to the house and they watched in silence as it drove away. A warm breeze flew by, making Zayn shiver in awe and anticipation as he looked at Harry standing a couple of steps away on their shared lawn, all of a sudden unsure what to do with his hands.

“Hi” Harry said, once he noticed him looking and took a step closer into Zayn’s space.

“Hi” Zayn repeated, finally allowing himself to brush a loose curl of hair back. Harry was looking at his mouth again and it was all Zayn could do when he closed the space between them, catching Harry’s lips on his.

This kiss was deeper than the one they just had and different from the ones they used to - shakier, but also that much more sure - as Zayn held Harry’s face on his hands, Harry’s arms on his waist and pulling closer as if to assure him he was here. They weren’t going anywhere.

They kissed and kissed and kissed, exploring each other’s mouths like they were two boys learning again how to kiss, until Harry pulled away. Zayn let out a sigh and the other boy laughed at him with delight. His face was pink from the alcohol and the heat and the kissing, and Zayn felt his heart somersault.

“I have an idea” he said, pulling Zayn by the hand, away from the houses and towards the beach. He kept stealing back glances as he hurried Zayn on, his face looking like magic, lit only by the moonlight. “I’ll race you” he said and sprinted down the way, Zayn following just behind him.

They threw themselves on the sand when they got to the deck, chests arfing up and down and huge drunk smiles matching on their faces. Harry barely even letting Zayn catch his breath before he was throwing a leg over him and settling on his lap, his mouth making its way onto Zayn’s neck, they both already hard under their pants.

“Too many clothes” Zayn mumbled as he tried and failed to unbutton Harry’s shirt, so he stopped the kiss for a bit and rushed a whiny Harry up to his feet before taking them both inside the yacht.

Once they stepped into the cabin, Harry was already pulling his shirt from the hem, not even bothering with the buttons anymore and as soon as it was off, Zayn stepped into his space and started mouthing on his neck, his own pants getting tighter and tighter as he got harder inside his boxers.

“I’ve wanted this so bad” Harry mumbled as his fingers worked the button on Zayn’s jeans.

“Yeah?” Zayn managed to say into his mouth as their got more and more frantic, teeth colliding and hands everywhere at once. When they were teenagers Harry didn’t used to get chatty, sometimes they didn’t even had enough time to talk, always rushing when they’re parents were out or having to be quiet when they were in as it got harder and harder not to touch each other all the time. And other times he got nervous and Zayn had to tell him it was ok, that they would figure everything out together.

“Yeah, since i saw you shirtless at the pool” Harry muttered against his lips “Couldn’t stop thinking about it” Zayn shifted them backwards to the bed and tossed out his pants before joining Harry on it. He moved to unbutton the other boy’s jeans as he trailed kisses down his chest and into his abs “Zayn, fuck” Harry mumbled, throwing his head back “I’m not gonna last anything like this”

Zayn pulled Harry’s pants down with his boxers “Turn around” he said as he leaned back to see Harry’s now totally naked body. He’d gotten stronger, the lines of his body more defined as he moved on all fours, his little bum pointing up while he looked at Zayn over his shoulders and it was all he could do not to jizz his pants as he rushed to get out of his own boxers and then moved closer to bite at Harry’s waist. Harry made a filthy sound of surprise and Zayn had to touch his own cock with it as he planted kisses all the way to Harry’s bum.

“Zayn, please” Harry whined, all coherency long gone “Please”.

“What do you want?” Zayn asked, teasing his teeth through the soft skin at the back of his legs.

“I want you to fuck me” Harry said “please”.

“Yeah, yeah Harry” he said as he reached to the shelf near the bed for a bottle of lube. He poured some over his fingers and started working a now moaning Harry. He looked so good, Zayn couldn’t look away, he felt hypnotised, his body trying to react to being flooded with _HarryHarryHarry_ from all of his senses.

“I’m good, I’m good’ Harry groaned after Zayn worked the third finger into him, trying to keep his pace as his own cock got achiling harder and harder “c’mon” Harry moaned.

“I’m clean” Zayn managed to say behind his gritted teeth as he leaned himself up with Harry’s body.

“Yea, Yes” Harry said.

“Then turn around” Zayn tapped his bum rushing him “want to see you”

Harry did as he was told and Zayn almost came right there to the sight of him, his hair disheveled, his neck and chest glistening with sweat and his pupils blow wide. Zayn kissed him roughly until he felt Harry reaching between them and tugging his cock once, twice, sending a shiver down his spine and guiding it to his entrance.

Zayn catched his breath, thinking that was it, that he was going to pass out, but then Harry moved his hands and was holding his face, gentle green eyes looking straight into his.

“Hi” he said, smiling.

“Hi” Zayn laughed a little breathlessly.

“It’s ok” Harry told him, before pulling him down on a kiss “It’s good” their bodies were touching everywhere, Zayn burying himself deeper and deeper into him “Zayn” he moaned and there it was, the feeling his own name didn’t belong to himself anymore, that Harry could do have it, could have him whole, because he is _his-his-his_.

Zayn trusted and trusted into him, meeting the thump thump thump of his heart as Harry moved his body trying to stay on sync, biting his lips in concentracion “Zayn” He moaned again “Zayn, ’m gonna cum”. Zayn tried to keep his pace while he watched as Harry unravelled his load between them without even touching himself and then he was coming too, riding the last bit of it before dropping his body on Harry, sweat damped and panting, trying to catch their breaths.

Harry rubbed his hands up and down Zayn’s back and pampered his collarbone with kisses as they recovered to their normal breathing. After a while they both grunted as Zayn pulled out, and then walked to the bathroom in search of a cloth to wet and clean them up.

When he got back to bed Harry was still on his back, his chest moving up and down as he looked up.

“That was-”

“Yeah” Zayn agreed lying back by his side and handing him the towel.

They stood in silence for a while until Harry pulled him in, sleep heavy in his eyes. Zayn wasn’t sure how much time passed but he turned to see Harry’s face and found him already asleep.

“I’ve missed you” he whispered and then gave in to sleep too.

...

The next morning Zayn woke up first.

He stared at the light dancing on the ceiling for a while, his mind taking it’s own time before conscience seeped through, still dizzy from the night before. His mouth felt dry and tasted like death. The world seemed like slow motion as he turned to find Harry asleep by his side. _Oh. Oh_. His limbs felt heavy as he pushed himself up to a sitting position.

“Hi” Harry said, feeling the movement and slowly forcing his eyes open.

Zayn forgot how Harry used to stretch his body like a cat. Which he did. In Zayn’s sheets. Again. Years later and it seemed like a too real, too cruel dèjavu. It felt too much.

Zayn shook his head to clear it “‘Morning” he mumbled as he stepped out of bed and made his way towards the bathroom “‘m gonna take a shower so you can go, and we skip the whole walk of shame thing” he wasn’t looking at Harry, but could see the other boy staring at him from the corner of his eyes as he entered the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

He walked straight into the shower and turned the tap, not even flinching when cold water mercilessly washed it’s way over his body before the temperature adjusted and the whole room began to steam up. Any chance of coherent thought dissipating with the fume, and he could only feel. His body felt rigid from the night before, the back of his thighs sore. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears and at the tip of his toes.

And then little by little he let it all rush through him. He and Harry, crying laughing at the party, how their fingers draw invisible lines on each other’s palms, how it made Zayn shiver. How sweet he tasted, like sugary drinks and this brightness he emanates, always have. Harry looking at him, guiding him, taking charge when it all got too overwhelming. Harry slowly opening his eyes on his bed, resting his head on his pillow.

And even though Zayn had just seen him, he missed him so much it ached. The hurt had been buried so deep inside him he turned it into skepticism, into building walls to protect himself and making sure he fixed everything around him, and how allowing himself to acknowledge the aching bits of him made him really scared. Scared of how broken he’d been and scared to let himself go there all over again. He couldn’t. He can’t.

And that’s why he already gave Harry his out, that’s why he didn’t wait around for him to realise what they’ve done and proceed to find a way to let Zayn down easy. He wouldn’t handle it, not when the memory of Harry moaning his name was so recent.

So he took his time washing up. He was letting it all go.

Zayn walked out of the bathroom a few minutes later, a towel hanging on his waist as he rubbed another one on his hair. He didn’t notice at first, but his heart all but came out of his chest though once he saw Harry - now thankfully dressed - sitting at the end of his bed. He looked up when Zayn came out.

“What-”

“I wasn’t” Harry said, his voice cracking, so he cleared his throat “I wasn’t going to” he looked down to his hands before looking Zayn in the eye and motioned with his hand to the door “to go, I mean”.

Zayn gaped at him, suddenly very aware of his bare chest and the towel hanging from his waist. Harry seemed to catch up too, because his eyes wandered a little “That’s it” he stood up “I’ll go now, though” he took a step towards the door.

“I-” Zayn rushed, he didn’t know what the fuck was he doing “you can stay” Harry turned on his heels to stare at him “I mean, if you want to” Zayn was scratching the back of his neck, looking everywhere but at him. Harry let out a breathy laugh.

“I don’t remember it being so awkward when we hooked up before” _Hookup, right._ Zayn thought _yeah, because you were always leaving_. They stared at each other in silence for a minute. “‘You hungry?” he tried again.

“Yeah, lemme just” Zayn reached for some clothes.

“Yeah, sure” Harry mumbled.

...

They walked in silence by the beach until they reached the blue front of Laguna’s. The ocean air clearing Zayn’s head as the day slowly warmed up, their feet marking the wet sand before being washed away by the waves.

Zayn felt weird walking into the restaurant with Harry holding the door for him, like letting everyone in on a secret. People had no idea about the steps they took to be where they stood. Zayn had no idea about where they _really stood_. He looked down as they found a booth and sat facing each other.

“I…” Harry began after they got settled, Zayn looked up, hanging on his words as the other boy stared him dead in the eye “am thinking pancakes” the fucking dickhead grinned and Zayn rolled his eyes, but if anything, it broke the awkwardness they were dancing around since Zayn came out of the shower. He reached for the menu on the end of the table.

Martha came to take their orders herself, saying something about how handsome they looked this morning and then proceeding to ask Harry something about legal paperwork, which Zayn thought was really out of line this early in the morning and noticed, made the other boy stiff a bit too.

“Are you going back?” he asked after she went back in the kitchen

Harry thought for a minute “To law school? Nope”

“Why?”

“Because I hate it” he laughed bitterly “because everytime I talk and realise I sound slightly like my father it makes me sick to the stomach”

“What are you going to do then?”

Harry paused as if unsure if he should say it “I’m already doing it” he smiled shyly, Zayn could tell this was important to him “There's this magazine that contacted me last year... They already published three of my photos”.

“Wow, Harry, this is-”

“Insane, I know, right?” he rubbed the back of his head self-consciously.

There was a pause before Zayn asked “Have you told them?”

“Not, yet” Harry let out a breath.

Zayn made a face and looked down, but he should know Harry noticed, after all, that was them, always pushing and pulling at each other.

“What?” he asked, annoyance already making itself known from his tone.

“Nothing, i just-” Zayn rubbed his face with his hands, he was so not in the mood for it, but he knew Harry Styles wouldn’t drop it easy “This is really good news, you have to tell them”

“Do I?” Harry asked sharply, narrowing his eyes.

Zayn was suddenly tired “They’re your parents”

“Have you met them?!” Harry’s voice went up an octave, but he checked himself and asked lower but still heated “What about you?”

“What about me what?”

“What do you want, Zayn? You finished college but came back here” Harry’s eyes were glistening with irritation.

Zayn laughed bitterly “It’s not like you understand, right Harry? You drop school and go out on vacation early”

“I-” Harry looked shocked “You don’t know how it is” he blurted.

Zayn felt it all rushing back, the other time they had this argument “Life got you pretty hard with your parents who don’t understand you, huh?”

Harry looked hurt, his eyes wide as he reached for a twenty on his front pocket and got up to leave.

…

The Styles’ yard was all adorned with vases and benches and tents already set for the party the next day when Zayn stepped into the lawn holding Harry’s camera. After the argument they had at the restaurant, he went back to the boat and tossed all of the sheets and opened all of the windows trying to vent out what had happened that night. He was going back to his house when he saw Harry’s camera forgotten over the deck of the boat and decided to take it to the main house. He was going to let it on the doorstep or something.

So he walked the short distance to the house and climbed the steps to the porch when he noticed the lights were out, there was no one there. He sat the camera on the doorstep and turned to walk back when he heard glass shattering in the side of the house.

Curiosity got the best of him as he made his way around the trees and bushes that rounded the house to the side where the pool was at and where the noise came from.

For a second, Zayn didn’t get quite what was happening, but the pool lights were on and the water was moving. He stood on alert until he saw Harry coming up from behind a sun bed, holding a bottle of wine on a hand and a shattered glass on the other.

He stumbled a little and Zayn took a step forward as if to catch him if he fell, even if he was nowhere near the other boy. Harry set the glass shards on a table and tipped the bottle to his lips, the liquid running through his chin and then his bare chest as he rubbed a hand over his mouth and looked up, noticing Zayn.

He was silent while Zayn crossed the distance to stand near the edge of the pool. Zayn felt his eyes burning as he stared at him.

“I brought your camera” Zayn said without meeting Harry’s eyes.

“Where is it then?” Harry drawled, clearly that wasn’t his first bottle and it was already by the half.

“I-” Zayn felt foolish “I left it on the doorstep”

Harry let out a loud laugh and offered the bottle to Zayn

Zayn thanked but didn’t reached for it, and Harry sneered.

“And now you’re judging me” the laugh he let out was angry “Zayn Malik always figuring it out before I do”.

“You think you know everything about me huh, Harry?” Zayn asked bitterly.

“I don’t, because I don’t get what holds you back” Harry looked like he was actually thinking about it, but then got angrier as he continued “You can go as far as you want to, but you have to make up your mind first” he blurted “You can’t wait for someone to tell you what to do.”

“Funny that’s coming from the one who tells my whole family what to do!” Zayn bit back.

“Zayn, you never worked for us!” Harry laughed emotionless “Your dad did so you didn’t have to, so you could go to college and chose whoever you wanted to be!”

“I did!” Zayn yelled “I did, and i still-”

“Still what?” Harry was loud too.

“I still can’t choose Harry!” Zayn all but yelled “Still don’t know, still haven’t figured it out!” He ran his fingers through his hair and took a breath “Are you really so self entitled you don’t see how people are not all that privileged like you? You keep pushing me like we’re the same!”

“Yeah Zayn, we’re not the same, because at least you can choose.” Harry’s eyes were filled with tears “You like helping people out because of who you are, if anything that makes you worthy, not them. Don’t be going around feeling like your less than everyone else and then blaming on them.”

“I can choose?” Zayn let out incredulous “Harry, you have everything!”

“I don’t though” Harry wiped a tear “My parents do” he took a deep breath and motioned to them “We are not our parents, i know that now, Zayn, do you? As great as your folks are, and they really, really are, Zayn.”

Zayn felt tired all of a sudden as he rubbed his hands on his face.

“What about the boat?” Harry went on, his hair a mess of how much his fingers pulled at it, his lips red from the wine “It makes no sense, you know…” he licked his lips and then looked at Zayn “Even thinking of building a boat if you’re never going to get out of here.”

“Was it really that easy for you to leave?” Zayn asked defeat seeping through his words.

“We were teenagers, Zayn, I-”

“Really, Harry?” he all but sighed, cutting the other boy out.

“Yeah, really! I-”

“That didn't mean I loved you any less” Zayn wiped his own face then, tears he didn’t know when started pouring, as he turned to walk back to his house.

“Zayn-” he heard Harry call once, but didn’t turn back.

...

Zayn got up already dreading the day to come. He opened his eyes and stretched on the too small single bed he slept at his childhood bedroom.

It was the day of the wedding anniversary and Zayn really thought about whether he could bail, but ended up deciding to go only because he was already hired, but he would leave as soon as he could. Zayn Malik was a good boy. So he took a shower and put on the suit he had from working tables in New York. It was a nice suit, a deep blue that made his eyes look chocolatey.

He stared at himself in the mirror for a bit before thinking better of it and then undressed again, reaching in the cabinet under the sink for his shaver. He felt the weight of it over his palm for a second before turning it on and shaving a big stripe on the side of his head. He looked at himself for a moment but then proceeded to shave it all of, letting only a few centimeters that blended with his beard perfectly.

He took another quick shower and put the suit back on, a white shirt and no tie under it. He held a breath as he looked at himself in the mirror again. Mirror Zayn had nothing to say to him he already didn’t knew, so he put his black shoes on and went downstairs.

His mom was at the sofa when he got to the living room, and sat up straighter at the end of it when she saw him.

“You’re really handsome, Zayn” she said kindly, reaching to cup his face on her hands.

“Thank you mum” he leaned a bit into her hands.

“Are you happy?” she asked softly, her piercing eyes a mirror to his own.

He thought for a moment “I’m working on it” she smiled and pulled him in a kiss.

“You have fun then, don’t work too much” she grabbed his hand and squeezed “I love you, Zayn”

“Love you mum” he kissed her one more time and made his way out of the house and towards the Styles’s party.

…

When Zayn got there he went straight to the kitchen to present himself to work. There was a staff hired especially to the party, but he found some of the faces he knew amongst them and smiled.

He was pouring some champagne into the glasses on his tray before going out when Harry came barging into the kitchen. Zayn startled to see he wasn’t wearing the tuxedo Donna adjusted, but a full on black glittering suit, the brightness of it colouring the mostly white kitchen and making Zayn stare at it against his better will.

Harry looked over searching for something until his eyes found Zayn’s and he made his way straight to him, stepping determined with his also glittering boots. He was a little breathless when he got close enough to Zayn, but he looked gorgeous and smelled just- this cologne would be the end of Zayn.

“Hi” he breathed.

“Hi” Zayn went back to pour the champagne.

“Can we talk?”

“I’m working, Harry” he settled the empty bottle on the counter and moved to pick up the tray and walk out to the party, never really looking at Harry, but feeling the other boy follow his every move.

The garden was already filling up with people dressed fancily in dresses and tuxedos Zayn would bet almost all had a signature. Flower arrangements adorned here and there and a fountain was set up in the middle of the lawn. Zayn made his way towards a group of ladies standing beside it.

“I’m sorry, ok?” Harry said, walking behind him “Maybe it wasn’t my place to say those things” he paused waiting for an answer as a guest picked up a flute, but when it didn’t came he went on “But you’re wrong about one thing, I do know you, Zayn.”

“You shouldn't do this, Harry”

“Yeah, I should” Zayn was beelining between all those people and Harry was trying to keep up “Excuse me, sorry” he told a woman in a purple dress but then grabbed Zayn’s free arm so he would look at him, his green, green eyes pleading for him to listen “Because it’s you. Because for some reason, for all these years, everytime I walk into a room I search for you.” He laughed sheepishly “Because ever since I can remember I wait all year to come to this town for you.”

Zayn made a turn and lead them to an emptier place near the kitchen and Harry went on.

“And i came back Zayn” he wasn’t going to let go of Zayn’s arm “The next summer, I came back, and you weren’t here, you were probably having the time of your life in college... You were just-” he shook his head, looking down “so much better at all this than me”.

“Harry-”

“No, I’ve dreamt about kissing you a thousand times before you kissed me for the first time just up this street, but I’ve been so scared, so hung up on other people expectations, I missed out on you”.

Zayn couldn’t help but smile “You didn’t”

“And when I finally, finally had the courage to drop school, here was the only place I could think to go, the only place I feel at home” he went on “and I know I have a lot to be glad too, I know, but it’s just-”

“I know, Harry.”

“No, I have to say this to you.” Harry exhaled “It wasn’t you. It was so hard to leave. Oh god, I loved you” he rubbed his face and Zayn sniffed a little “I did, Zayn. I do.”

“Harry-”

“For all that we complicate it, it's very simple really, I just want to be by your side all year round as summers come and go” Harry finished, tears glinting in his eyes, but a smile creeping on his face.

Zayn let out a sob “You didn’t, Harry” he moved his hand to wipe a tear on the other boy’s cheek, who looked at him expectantly “You didn’t missed out on me.”

Harry laughed wetly and wrapped Zayn’s waist as he leaned in to kiss him before reaching for the tray and walking straight into the kitchen to put it back over the counter, holding Zayn by the hand all the way.

As they made their way outside again Harry stumbled into his mom and dad that watched the whole movement in shock.

“I’m dismissing Zayn” Harry said a little breathless, still holding Zayn’s hand “He’s with me” and then walked away pulling Zayn with him.

They went straight to the beach.

Somewhere along the way the walking turned into running and when they got there they threw themselves in the sand, their chests rising and falling as they laid side by side, beaming at each other.

Zayn smiled and kissed him, because this was it, that was the only restlessness he wanted.

...

Zayn held a bag over each shoulder as he made his way out of his house and through the lawn towards the dock, like he made so many times before. This time though, it felt different, felt like he was doing it for the first time. He closed his eyes for a bit and took a deep breath smelling the ocean and the trees.

It was a beautiful day, the sun up in the sky making all the colours of the world look brighter. As he got close to the water he watched to see the way the waves reflected the sunlight in a perfect angle, like a million glittery pieces.

“Did you get everything, babe?” Harry called from above the rail peering down at him behind his stupid designer sunglasses, his hair was up, but a loose strand swirled with the wind.

“Would have sooner if you’d just chosen everything yesterday” Zayn called from the sand, throwing the bags up the deck of the boat.

“Hey! I was choosing our movie!”

“It’s just so may choices!” Zayn teased as he climbed the rail himself, moving to hold Harry by the waist.

“I choose you, everytime” Harry said, kissing him softly, the sea singing in their ears.

Zayn looked at the green lawn and the houses that stood tall and taller on it and Harry grabbed his hand.

Wherever they choose to go, they would always have somewhere to come back to.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading it, hope you liked it!
> 
> You can talk to me on Tumblr at zaynmawank


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